The Feelings of a Ruth
by DarqueQueen7
Summary: Hermione thinks of another as her husband is laid to his final rest...


The Feelings of a Ruth

The Feelings of a Ruth by Darque Queen7

Hermione watched, her heart broken, as they laid her husband Ronald Weasley to rest. It had been years since she had thought of death… After the War, she believed she would think of nothing else. So many losses…so many misunderstandings…and plain stupid deaths.

She had had a few quiet words with her former Potions Professor before he left to 'murder' Albus Dumbledore. She was there when Severus Snape was dying on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack, digging frantically into her magically enhanced purse for her bottle of dittany and yet knowing it wasn't adequate…no, it was just plain _stupid_.

A song her mother used to sing to her father sprang into her mind as Harry, Ginny and their collected children moved to remove her from the burial site. Although she stood in front of her husband's grave, she thought of another's place…a black marble sarcophagus planted by the shores of a lake near a school that had been his haven and his prison for more than half of his life time. 

She had to let the song out…she had sung it to _him_, not her husband. She had to let out the memories of what had past between them for those few stolen moments before he went to ultimately meet his end. The kisses he had given her were anything but chaste; he had tried to apologize to her, but she wouldn't hear of it…

_Wherever you go _

_There you will find me _

_Wherever you lodge _

_That is my home _

_Wherever you die _

_There I'll be buried_

_Your people are mine _

_Your God is my God_

_Do not ever urge me to go_

_Or desert your side and leave you _

_For May God to me_

_And more if anything_

_But death separate you from me _

Death had separated her from the two men she had loved in her life. One was secret; even now at the wake for her husband she could not take his best friend or sister into her confidence and tell them her secret…no, it was best she kept this to her own grave. 

She rose from her husband's sofa (she named it that because he loved it so) and looked at the wizard and muggle photos hung all over the walls of their home. Of her, Ron and Harry when they were first years, hanging on each other, laughing in triumph after receiving the House Cup and their first defeat of Voldemort's returning spirit. Then there were others…Harry and Ginny's wedding…George and Fred in front of their shop. Arthur and Molly with Ron and Hermione's first born as an infant. Ron's career as an Auror captured…Hermione's as an academic. She knew in her heart that if she and Severus had survived the war together, these pictures would be so different…she smiled sadly as she absently tucked strands of graying hair behind her ear. She stopped suddenly as she remembered something Severus had said to her one night so long ago...

"_Don't …let me," and he tucked her hair behind her ear. He kissed her forehead tenderly. "There…now you are ready to face the world." And he bestowed her with a smile. An honest to goodness, non-Snape smirking smile. _

She smiled, realizing she had stopped in front of the only photograph she had of her former Potions Professor. His back was to the photographer; he was surveying the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest from the main doors of Hogwarts. His shoulders were squared and strong, his posture ramrod straight. Colin Creevey took the photo then gave it to her at her request just before…before everything. _Poor Colin_…

_For May God to me_

_And more if anything_

_But death separate you from me_

Hermione shook herself out of those maudlin thoughts. Neither of _her_ men would have wanted that for her at this moment. She turned to her guests, her children and relatives. She had lived a good and fulfilling life – she had her husband, family and career to thank for that. She knew she should be thinking more about her husband; her mate for more than sixty years. But her thoughts kept drifting to her dark paramour; the one that couldn't be acknowledged. The one no one ever knew of…

_Do not ever urge me to go_

_Or desert your side and leave you _

_For May God to me_

_And more if anything_

_But death separate you from me _

That night after everyone left her was the first night she had slept alone in more than forty-five years. And yet she remained that way for another fifty years. When her children, grandchildren and great-grand children asked her why, she would simply smile and say that two great loves in her life were enough and the subject would be dropped. Her progeny always thought she meant her husband and her career; only she knew differently.

And finally, when she was on her deathbed with her family surrounding her, she felt _him_ coming for her. Not her husband, but the man she had never mentioned to anyone in over a century. He stood by her side, dressed as always in his formidable black frock coat and professorial robes. His dark hair and eyes almost seemed to accentuate the light that shone from behind him. He stretched out a hand to her as the light starched the cuff of his white shirt almost silver.

"Hermione," he whispered lovingly. "Ronald and the others had you during your time with them…but now is your time with me."

"Severus," she whispered, raising her hand slightly as she breathed her last.

_For May God to me_

_And more if anything_

_But death separate you from me_

As per her final wishes, her remains were cremated and partitioned. Half to be laid with her husband – and half with her former professor, Severus Snape.

A/N – My first fic…so be kind, no flames…but constructive criticism is allowed and encouraged. The song is called "The Song of Ruth" by Lamb (written by Joel Chernoff) Thanks! D.


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